Gears
by hulklinging
Summary: Daja knows every spoke of every gear in her life. Or she did. Brothers and beautiful girls tend to change this.


Daja likes her job at the mechanic shop. It was straightforward. Everything had a place, everything made sense. Hers is a simple system, every gear moves smoothly, every wire has a purpose.

Then a young girl with bright brown eyes and a small smile comes in with a beautiful, fast car, and asks for a paint job, to cover up a few scratches. Two weeks in a row.

On her third visit, Daja folds her arms over her chest and scowls. "I don't mind the easy money, really, but it would probably be easier on your wallet to leave the paint on the car, when I put it there."

The girl blushes, and ducks her head. The light catches her cheeks, making them glow, and Daja feels that dropping in her stomach that means she's seen something particularly stunning. But the girl is young, probably too young, and daja's heart still aches from her last romance, so she ignores the girl and stares at the car instead.

And the girl looks up, at Daja's wide strong shoulders, at the way her mouth moves, and if she's honest with herself, the blush is not because she is being told off. Nor does her sister need her to cover for her weekly.

"It's not my car... My sister drives... recklessly. It would bother Wi- our stepmother. So I cover for her."

And Daja can't help but smile, because sisterhood is something she understands, almost as well as she understands metal and power. "That makes sense, I suppose." She ignores the girl's rich low voice, the lilt of an accent making everything she says sound special. Instead, she steps closer, admiring the groves in the metal that probably came from cutting a corner and dragging against a pole. "And stopping isn't an option?"

It's a dry joke, but the girl laughs, a quiet one that she tries to hide behind a hand. Daja tries to guess her accent, but it's muddled. Not in the way her foster brother's is, picked up from a little bit of everywhere and everyone, but the girl has definitely moved around a fair bit.

"I'm Dovasary... Dove."

"Daja," she says, and sticks out a hand, before realizing it's sticky with residue oil, coarse and huge next to Dove's small, delicate self. But the girl smiles, and shakes her hand, and Daja isn't going to crush on an underaged girl with a dangerous sister, especially not with her heart still a bit broken, but she minds the repeat job less, now. Much less.

In fact, she takes the liberty to pencil Dove in every weekend at the same time. After all, she's covered for her sisters (and her brother) enough to respect someone doing the same.

Her and Dove can talk about anything, it seems. The younger girl's read at least a little bit on every subject under the sun, but she takes care to never make Daja feel ignorant or stupid. It becomes one of the highlights of Daja's week.

Then Briar comes home. Daja takes one look at him, how he's skin and bones and haunted like some war veteran. The girl he brings home is the same. Lark descends on Evvy and Rosethorn, getting them settled at Discipline, but Briar's room has long since been given away. He knew that, he assures Daja, looking sheepish and guilty in a way that makes Daja's heart ache. He'd just... Forgotten. So much had happened.

Daja calls in to work and gets a week off. She calls Tris, who comes back to the city on weekends anyway, and the fact that Tris is willing to miss school for this shows that she knows just how much Briar needs her, needs them all right now. She's grown up, Daja realizes. They all have. And grown up well, if she does say so herself.

Sandry she doesn't have to call. Even though she spends most of her time at her uncle's, ever since the stroke, and with city elections coming up, she always seems to know exactly when to come stay in her little room in Daja's modest home. It's come a long way, to be able to be called modest at all. It was basically a dump, before, but it was a dump with a garage, and Sandry helped her buy it, saying that as long as there was always a place for the four of them there, she didn't mind helping Daja out. It took ages, but there was something so satisfying, standing in the middle of the living room, knowing that every pipe and every electrical wire was something she had personally checked or fixed. Even when it was only her at home, which was most of the time, before Briar came home, each sibling could be felt in this house. Sandry's spare sewing machine, her first one. Briar's plants, the ones Lark gave them when she saw how much they missed their brother. Books, shelves and shelves of books, all the books that didn't fit in Tris's dorm room. This is their home. And this is where they all come together, to welcome Briar home, to cook for him to coddle to him to heal him. For this one week, they close out the rest of the world and their lives shrink to just the four of them.

Briar makes Daja go back to work after that week. She works hard and hurries home, because Tris can't miss more class and Sandry has meetings with press and there's an emptiness behind Briar's eyes that scares her. It isn't until Monday evening that Daja realizes it's been two weeks since she's seen Dove.

She misses her.

She doesn't know how to ask her coworkers about the girl, if she stopped by on her week absence, if she said anything. Dove is too young, probably, maybe, and Daja never came out to her coworkers, not really, it's not like Rizu ever came around the garage.

Briar watches her worry herself through dinner and she gets dinner rolls thrown at her for her dinner.

"You are an adult, Briar! Adults don't throw food!"

"I'm traumatized, and you're being silly!"

Sandry walks in, an apology for missing dinner ready on her tongue, only to find her siblings still mid-meal. It would have looked almost normal except for the wreckage of the kitchen around them.

"You have bread in your hair," Sandry picks a piece of crust out of Daja's braids and helps herself to some broccoli off of Briar's plate. "What's the occasion?"

Briar smirks as Daja quickly excuses herself to start cleaning up the mess they made. "Daja's got girl problems."

Sandry laughs, and Daja doesn't mind the laughter and her expense, even though her cheeks are burning. She doesn't mind because her brother is laughing and teasing her and it feels like normal now. It feels like it should.

And because he's not wrong. She does have girl problems. One girl. One really smart and pretty and kind girl. Next time she sees her, Daja promises herself, next time she sees her she's gonna ask her out. For coffee, if she likes coffee. Well, first she'll ask her how old she is. Then coffee.

Two more weeks go by. Briar reads a lot. He says he's catching up on all the books that came out while he was gone. He jumps when doors close too fast and when the tea kettle goes off. He refuses to go to a therapist, even when all of his sisters ask nicely and not-so-nicely. He says he's fine, again and again so the words don't mean anything. Tris scowls and Sandry yells, so Daja lets him be. He has shadows on him, and it has to be his choice, to deal with them. And Daja will be here to support him when he does. Until then, she does little things. Like making the tea kettle pop, instead of whistle, when it's ready. She does what she can.

She's leaving work on a Sunday. She stayed late, there was a car with a faulty transmission that refused to cooperate, and she's wondering if dinner will still be warm when she gets home. She will admit, she's not paying much attention, which is why she practically trips over the girl sitting outside of the garage.

"Dove?"

The girl looks up at Daja with wide eyes. Her hair is short, and a little rough, like she's cut it with scissors. She looks tired. Daja doesn't have time to take in much more because Dove stands up and hugs her, tight. It takes Daja a moment to respond, surprised at this turn of events, but then she wraps her arms around the smaller girl, and holds her tight. They stand there for a good few minutes, and Daja realizes Dove is shaking.

Finally, she pulls away. Daja's arms feel strangely empty. Before she can ask what happened, Dove has her hands up, almost but not quite touching Daja.

"I'm sorry. The car was gone and I didn't have any excuse to come here and my sister left and our brother is sick and I didn't know. If it was okay, for me to come here. I wasn't sure." She looks up at Daja, and her eyes are so wide, blown open, and they've talked about everything except themselves, but Daja can still feel herself falling into that gaze. It's like vertigo. It's exciting and terrifying all at once.

"You're welcome to come visit me. Even with no car." Daja's attempt at a joke isn't funny, but Dove smiles, a sad half smile that makes Daja want to pull her back into a hug.

"I don't usually do this. I'm the sensible sister. The one with a steady head." She takes another step back, head shaking. "So steady that when I get overwhelmed I... Well, I don't know. I guess I go and throw myself at strangers. Sorry, again."

Daja knows what it's like, to be the levelheaded one, and she says as much. "I have three siblings. They're... We're all very strong personalities."

"Your boss mentioned your brother. When you weren't here, a few weeks ago." Briar, who expects Daja home. Before, her being late wouldn't have mattered. But that was before. "I hope he's okay."

And it's really only because of Briar that she does what she does next. For sure. That's what she tells herself. "He's... not okay. But he's home, so that's a good start." The next sentence is a mess, and it's dark but Daja knows she's blushing, even though this is just because of her brother, she doesn't want to worry him. "I should be getting back but would you like to come over? For tea. Or talking. Or not talking?"

Dove's smile is much more real now. Daja wonders if her cheeks are burning too, if she is also blessing the darkness surrounding them. "Tea sounds lovely. If you don't mind?"

The walk home feels much faster than it usually does. Maybe it's because Daja's heart is working overtime. Dove ran to her when she was overwhelmed. That had to mean something, right?

"My sister isn't really okay either," Dove says, a block from home. Daja looks at her, but doesn't interrupt. "Our father died last year. He was... He died. And it was hard for all of us. But my sister... It was her car, that you were always fixing. She didn't used to drive like that. She always liked going fast, but she got... dangerous. She races her friends places. And then our half brother got sick. And she just... didn't come back, a few weeks ago. Left some silly note, saying she was eloping with a boy she really only just met, and that she'd come back when she's able." Dove's hands are balled into fists, and her voice is shaking. At first Daja was worried it was tears, but now she hears the anger in Dove's tone. "She just runs away, leaves us alone with Elsren, who keeps asking for her, and leaves our stepmother to deal with her mess on top of everything else. How could she be so selfish?" Her voice is getting louder and louder, and Daja stops and turns to her. They're standing outside of the apartment, and Daja can hear some music, leaking through their door. Something strange and offbeat. Briar's music. The streetlight is catching Dove's face in a way that makes her positively glow.

Daja is not usually a romantic, but Dove, in this light, looks like a queen, and Daja's hands itch to create, to pull at metal until it's fit to be her crown.

"Did something happen today? For you to come to the garage, I mean."

Dove shrugs, looking down, stepping out of the light, but that royalty doesn't diminish. It's in how she holds her shoulders. It's in the lilt of her smile.

"She called home. Sarai did. As soon as I mentioned Elsren's doctor's appointment, she said she had to go. She's a grown woman. She can't run away like this. It's... it's not fair. She's supposed to be the mature one. I..." Her voice gets very small. "I don't know how to carry my family. We're falling apart."

This time, Daja does reach out, and put a steadying hand on the smaller girl's shoulder. Now would be a very inappropriate time to kiss her, Daja reminders herself. Now is a time for comfort. Not for kissing. Still, they're standing too close, and Dove's eyes flicker to Daja's lips for just a moment, and-

"So, are you gonna come inside, or are you gonna make me worry for another few minutes?"

Both of them jump. The door in front of them is open, and Briar's standing in it, smirking at them both.

I'm going to kill you, Daja thinks, loud enough for him to hear her, even though he's been closed off since he came home. You can't stay awake for ever and I will get you.

Briar's grin grows even wider, and he reaches out, offers Dove his hand. "Hi. I'm the brother. You must be the little birdy who keeps bothering Daja at work."

Daja and Dove both speak at once, Daja in protest, Dove trying to apologize. Briar watches them struggle, before laughing and jerking his head in the direction of inside and- Daja's stomach rumbles and she remembers- a late dinner. "Gonna invite the bird in, Daj'?"

That quiets them both. A beat goes by, and Daja listens to Briar's mental laughter. Fine. If laughing at her failed social interactions got him to open up his connection with her, it was a fair trade.

"You don't bother me. At all. Would you still like to come in?"

Dove laughs, and Daja's stomach twists and grows wings. "Yes, please."

They get the tea Daja promised and more. Briar cooked, and although his meals always looked a little strange, they were always delicious. Even if nothing ever tasted the same twice.

"This is really good!"

Briar doesn't take any offence at Dove's obvious surprise, just smiles as he grabs himself a second helping. "Course it is. I made it."

Daja makes a face at him while Dove isn't looking. "You talk cocky, for a boy who couldn't boil water before you moved in with us all." She doesn't mention the fact that it looks like a few of her cups are missing. They're probably in the garbage, broken. She really should make some nice tin cups for him, so that they're not picking up shattered glass or porcelain every time a car backfires or a neighbour shouts. He looks happy though, telling a giggling Dove about his first cooking lesson with their foster mothers. Dove is a great audience, laughing in all the right places, and Daja has a moment of anxiety as she remembers that most girls find her brother charming, handsome. What if Dove...?

That is such a silly thought. Because if she is, then that's fine, but... Dove ran to her. For help. So that had to mean something. Right?

Daja hasn't felt so bumbling and awkward in a long while. Not since. Well, not since Rizu had first taken an interest in her.

That is enough silly thinking for tonight! She mentally scolds herself and clears the dinner dishes. By the time she's rinsed all of their dishes and put them away, it's just Briar at the table.

"Don't worry, she didn't leave," he says before she even opens her mouth. "She's just in the washroom." Her obvious relief gets her another laugh from her brother. "She's a looker, huh? Although you do tend to like pretty girls."

"Can we please not have this conversation while she's still here?" Daja occupies her hands with a stain on the table. It doesn't come off with her nail, so she might need to give Nia a call. "I don't even know if she likes girls. Or likes girls like me. Or-"

"It's so nice seeing you go to pieces around girls. You're so put together the rest of the time, something I forget you have flaws just like the rest of us." He puts his feet up on the table, just to bug her. "Also, she's nineteen. So you don't need to feel creepy."

"Briar!"

She doesn't know what she's going to yell at her brother, because Dove walks back into the room, and her words get all tangled again. Dove's slipping a phone back into her pocket, and her smile has that sad twist to it that Daja has known for all of a few hours and already hates seeing.

"I think I should head out... Thank you, for dinner, and for... everything." She meets Daja's eyes and Daja manages to get out an "anytime, it was no problem at all", while Briar stands up and stretches.

"Do you need a drive home or anything?" he asks, even though he's not allowed to drive. He gets a stern look from Daja for that, which he of course ignores. But Dove is shaking her head.

"No, it's fine. Winna, my stepmother, she's coming to get me. She offered, and with Sarai gone, she likes to pick me up. Her way of making sure I get home safe, I guess."

"Makes sense." Briar gives her a wave and a wink. "See you next time, birdy." He leaves up the stairs before Dove can protest the nickname. Daja walks her to the door.

"If he already has a nickname for you, that's a good sign."

"Even if it's a terribly obvious nickname?" On anyone else it would probably come off as a whine, but it's rather cute, coming from Dove. Daja is further gone than she has any right to be.

"I think that's part of the charm of it."

They're at the door. Neither moves to open it.

"Daja. Thank you for this. For everything. Really. You hardly know me and you did more than you know, today."

"It was no problem. Really."

Dove's phone buzzes, and she pulls it out, glances at it. "That's my ride. I'll see you soon?" Daja's already nodding, perhaps too eager but it's okay, because Dove is beaming at her.

"Cool. That's cool."

And then she leans in, one hand on Daja's shoulder, and gives Daja the quickest of kisses. She has to stand on her tiptoes to do it, and before Daja can even react, she's opening the door and almost skipping down the walk to the car waiting outside. She shoots Daja one last little wave, before getting into the car, disappearing down the street. Daja is frozen in the doorway, lips burning, shoulder still feeling the weight of Dove's hand. She would have stood there longer, but Briar comes up behind her, giving one of her braids a tug.

"Come inside, starry eyes. Or are your gears too steamed up to move?"

She smacks him, without even thinking about it. Her heart skips, but he's still laughing. Her brother is here, he's home, and he is a little bent, he has a little rust, but he's still moving. He doesn't need her wearing gloves around him.

"She left this on the table, by the way." He says, and holds up a piece of paper.

"Is that a phone number."

"It is definitely a phone number."

If anyone asks later, both Briar and Daja will deny that they spent their night fighting over a small scrap of paper.

Of course Daja won, though. She gets the number of a cute girl. Her brother is home. Dove is going through something, and so is Briar, but Daja is strong, and adding more gears to a system might complicate it, but it can also make it stronger. Better.

Daja likes her job at the mechanic shop. Sure, some things are complicated, but that's okay. She doesn't mind.


End file.
